


In Knots

by elendri



Category: No. 6 - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-27
Updated: 2013-02-27
Packaged: 2017-12-03 18:48:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/701473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elendri/pseuds/elendri
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shion had never seen Nezumi wear a tie before.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Knots

It was quite possible, Shion decided, that he was going mad.

It all started when the manager of Nezumi’s theater troupe decided to host a banquet for their benefactors. Nezumi had spent days muttering about “fancy dress” and how it belonged on a stage, not at a dinner table, but Shion’s gentle insistence had finally prodded Nezumi to venture into the shops and find a suitable outfit.

When he returned home, Nezumi was carrying a hanger covered with a garment bag which he promptly—and sullenly—hung up beside Shion’s suits in the closet.

On the day of the banquet, Nezumi spent roughly two minutes wheedling and charming him before Shion’s admittedly futile resistance gave out and he agreed to accompany Nezumi. Trooping upstairs to get dressed, Shion resigned himself to an evening of shaking strangers’ hands and awkwardly following Nezumi around. He had been frowning at himself in the mirror, wondering if he’d be better off leaving the top button of his shirt undone or if he should go for propriety and button them all, when Nezumi wandered into the bathroom, fussing with his tie.

Nezumi studied himself in the mirror as he looped the fabric around itself with the practiced ease of one who’s knotted a tie countless times before—which was surprising, given that Nezumi had _never_ tied a tie before.

Oh, sure, he’d worn bow ties and cravats and the like, the costume pieces that came with the life of a stage actor. (And the costume designer—a fussy perfectionist of a woman who had somehow managed to intimidate even Nezumi into doing things her way—was always the one to affix these accessories to the actors, no doubt under the assumption that she was the only one who knew how to do them properly.) But the theater Nezumi was employed with tended to gravitate towards period pieces or wildly extravagant musicals; lacking any modern settings in his work, Nezumi had never actually donned a tie before.

Yet here he was, hands easily going through the motions until he had completed a proper knot, which he tightened around his throat.

Shion found himself inexplicably, helplessly staring.

Nezumi noticed this and quirked an eyebrow at him. “Something wrong?”

“No, no,” Shion said hastily, averting his gaze. He fiddled with his top button again. “I just didn’t know if I should button this last one or not. What do you think, Nezumi?”

Nezumi studied him for a moment, frowning slightly. An odd look passed over his face before he muttered, “Hang on,” and strode out of the bathroom.

Shion stared after him with a startled expression. He spent the thirty seconds that Nezumi was away trying to convince himself that the brief look in Nezumi’s eyes had absolutely _not_ been mischief.

Shion knew that Nezumi in a mischievous mood never boded well for himself.

Nezumi strolled back into the bathroom with his arms behind his back. He looked rather pleased with himself. Hoping he looked more curious then panicked, Shion started to ask, “What are you—“ but the words died almost instantly.

Because held between Nezumi’s hands was a length of crimson silk fabric that was now positioned below Shion’s throat.

Nezumi critically eyed the crimson tie against Shion’s grey suit before giving a nod of satisfaction. “Perfect,” he declared. He smirked at Shion. “Can’t go to a fancy dress party without a proper tie, Shion.” Nezumi held the tie out to him.

Shion stared at it dumbly.

Nezumi snorted. “What’s the matter? It won’t bite. Go on, then, put it on.”

“I—“ Shion blushed. “I don’t know how to tie a tie.”

It was the truth. Shion had spent the majority of his life living with a mother who hadn’t had cause to teach him; after his run-in with Nezumi had gotten him kicked out of Chronos, there hadn’t been any occasion for him to bother learning. A tie became a frivolous accessory in Shion’s worldview. He supposed that maybe he ought to have changed this attitude after joining the Reconstruction Committee, but clothes were just not a high priority for Shion—the thought had honestly never even occurred to him until this moment.

Nezumi looked something akin to bewildered for a moment before that trademark smirk was back on his face. “In that case,” he said, “turn around, Your Majesty.”

Shion cautiously turned to face the mirror. He watched Nezumi step up behind him and—oh—he draped the length of the tie around Shion’s neck.

“Watch closely,” Nezumi instructed, his breath ghosting over Shion’s ear.

Shion tried very hard to pay attention to the motions Nezumi’s hands were going through and commit them to memory. A man should know how to tie a tie, after all.

But all Shion could see were Nezumi’s hands wrapped up in that crimson silk; his brain simply refused to process the rest.

As Nezumi slid the knot into place under Shion’s collar, Shion couldn’t stop himself from gulping audibly. He watched his Adam’s apple bob and fought to keep the blush off his face.

Miraculously, Nezumi either didn’t notice or simply pretended not to.

After smoothing down Shion’s collar, Nezumi rested his hands on Shion’s shoulders and smiled at him in the mirror. “And now you look like a real gentleman,” he said, a hint of a chuckle in his voice. “Shall we?”

Shion nodded, and allowed Nezumi to take his hand and lead him from the bathroom.

* * *

Shion gulped from his water glass and tried to convince himself to stop staring at Nezumi.

Nezumi had gotten up from their table some time ago to greet a patron seated on the other side of the room. After he’d chatted with the old woman for a few minutes, he had started to make his way back towards Shion…but Nezumi had quite the fan club, and now, nearly thirty minutes later, he stood surrounded by young, attractive women. Shion’s eyes stayed helplessly glued to Nezumi, watching as he laughed at some joke or shared a glance with some woman who touched his shoulder.

Shion couldn’t blame the women vying for Nezumi’s attention. Nezumi certainly stood out in his all-black ensemble, save for the thin white tie that stood out starkly against the dark material. Nezumi was handsome even when dressed in cotton sweatpants and a threadbare t-shirt; tonight, he was…beautiful.

“Would you like more water, sir?”

Shion startled at the voice and looked around to see a waiter holding up a silver pitcher. “Oh, uh, yes, please, thank you.”

The man took his glass and refilled it, handing it back to Shion with a smile before slipping away. Shion took another large swallow from the glass as he turned back around on his chair—and almost choked on it when his eyes immediately locked with Nezumi’s.

They held gazes for one beat, two, and then Nezumi shot Shion an impish grin and looked away again.

Shion determinedly wrenched his gaze away from Nezumi and his fawning fans and focused instead on the band on the other side of the room. A string ensemble had set up and begun playing just as dinner was being cleared away, and now a number of couples had been lured by the Argentine tango to the dance floor. Shion smiled to himself as he watched the dancers whirl around, his fingers tapping the beat on his thigh.

“Want to give it a go?”

Shion startled for the second time, almost knocking Nezumi in the face because of how close the man had bent down to speak into his ear. “What?” Shion said, too jittery to make sense of Nezumi’s words.

“Let’s dance,” Nezumi said, holding out his hand. “I have it on good authority they’re going to play a waltz next. Your favorite, considering it’s about the only dance you can properly do.”

“It’s the only dance you’ve properly taught me,” Shion grumped. He was still feeling edgy—especially now that that damnable tie was right in front of him again—but he took Nezumi’s hand.

They walked to the dance floor together as the music melted into a traditional waltz. Shion placed his hand on Nezumi’s shoulder—and almost moaned when Nezumi’s free hand wrapped around his tie instead of his waist. _What’s wrong with me? It can’t possibly be normal to be so fixated by a piece of fabric._

Smirking, Nezumi pulled Shion forward into the dance.

Shion honestly had no idea how he managed to make it through the dance without stumbling into another couple or stomping on Nezumi’s foot. His mind wasn’t on the steps at all; all he could think about was Nezumi’s hand tugging on that knot at his throat, Nezumi’s hands wrapped up in the fabric, the color of the crimson silk against Nezumi’s pale skin.

_It’s undeniable,_ Shion thought morosely. _I’m going insane._

When the music changed into a jaunty swing number, Nezumi flashed a secretive smile at Shion and swept off without a word.

Shion stared after him for a few moments before clearing his throat and heading off in search of a bathroom. Dunking his head in a sink full of cold water suddenly sounded like a brilliant idea.

* * *

Shion had no idea how much time he spent in the bathroom, alternately pressing cold, damp paper towels to his flushed cheeks and sweaty neck, but after the nineteenth man came and went, he figured he’d been hiding long enough.

After tossing the paper towel in the bin and giving himself a firm look that said, _Keep it together, for the love of your dignity,_ Shion pushed open the bathroom door—

And stumbled when he heard someone say, “Should I even bother asking what you’ve been up to all this time?”

Shion’s heart seized as he turned and met Nezumi’s gaze. He forced himself to focus on that roguish grin and not that infernal tie.

“You were in the bathroom for quite a while, Shion,” Nezumi quipped. His gaze dropped pointedly downwards.

“What? No! I wasn’t—I _wasn’t_.” Shion prayed that he didn’t look nearly as guilty as he felt, despite the fact that he really hadn’t been doing what Nezumi suspected. After all, he couldn’t deny that he _wanted_ to. “I—I just needed to—there are too many people out there, I just wanted to be…alone.”

Nezumi quirked an eyebrow at him. “Right.” He was clearly not convinced, but as long as he didn’t press the matter, Shion didn’t really care. Nezumi let out a sigh and glanced out at the crowd. “Well, I think I’ve just about had it too,” he said. “You ready to go?”

Shion could have wept with relief. The crowd was utterly stifling, especially given the mindset he’d been in all night; getting out of there and to the safety of his home where he could focus on banishing his thoughts sounded massively appealing. “Yes,” Shion answered.

Smiling, Nezumi dropped an arm around Shion’s shoulders and began steering him toward the back exit.

Shion craned his neck around to see if anyone was taking note of their departure. “Shouldn’t you let someone know you’re leaving?” he asked Nezumi.

“They’ll figure it out when they can’t find me,” Nezumi replied indifferently.

Shion scowled at him. “That’s not what I meant.”

Nezumi didn’t respond, just shot him a briefly amused look before tugging him out the door and into the cool night.

“Well, that could have been worse,” Nezumi declared. “Dakin didn’t get nearly as drunk as I thought he would, and Runa got just drunk enough to manage to be pleasant for once.” He gave Shion a sidelong glance. “I think she fancies you. She kept looking at you.”

Shion couldn’t think of a single way to respond to that, so he stayed silent.

“Didn’t you notice?” Nezumi teased. “She wasn’t being very subtle at all. I almost excused myself to leave you both to clandestinely make doe-eyes at each other.”

And Shion couldn’t stop himself from admitting, “My eyes were on you all night.”

They walked in silence for a moment; when Shion finally chanced a glance at Nezumi, he was surprised to see a grin bursting with smug triumph on his face. Nezumi looked back at Shion and, catching his gaze, his grin widened. “Let’s hurry home, shall we?” he said.

Shion stayed silent again, but the way he caught Nezumi’s hand and pulled him into a faster pace was answer enough.

* * *

Shion forced himself to look away from the sight of Nezumi loosening his tie and focused on shutting the door behind him. He turned the lock, slid the deadbolt into place, took a deep, steadying breath—

And before he could turn and face Nezumi again, he was grabbed by the arm and pulled until his back hit the wall. Nezumi slammed his hand against the wall by Shion’s head and smirked down at him, hips pressing forward to trap Shion against him.

“You have absolutely no subtlety,” Nezumi said, rough and mocking. “Every emotion is spelled out on your face in fucking neon lights. You were dying to sneak off to the toilets to jerk off the moment you saw me in this get-up, weren’t you?”

Shion felt his face flush— _Neon lights indeed_. “I—no,” he stammered. “No, I wasn’t.”

“Liar,” Nezumi said silkily, trailing his fingers down Shion’s neck. He stared down at Shion with a look in his eyes that was both accusatory and amused, and Shion could only stare helplessly back as his pulse quickened and his desire to yank on that damnable, _damnable_ tie threatened to overwhelm him.

But instead, Nezumi was the one to reach out and grab Shion’s tie, pulling him forward into a kiss that made Shion’s knees tremble. He clung to Nezumi, seeking refuge in the wet heat of Nezumi’s mouth and the feel of lean muscle under his hands. Anything to drive away the thought of the crimson silk against Nezumi’s skin.

Nezumi pulled Shion’s shirt out from the waistband of his pants, one cool hand sliding across his skin to the small of his back. The touch made Shion arch forward, and when Nezumi rocked his hips against his in response, a whine rose up in Shion’s throat. He tangled his hands in Nezumi’s hair while Nezumi sucked on his lower lip.

Despite it all, Shion was still very aware that one of Nezumi’s hands was still clutching his tie. So when he felt Nezumi slide his fingers up the silk to loosen the knot, Shion’s mind went blank and from very far away he heard himself pant, “Oh, _hell_.”

Nezumi let out a strangled sound that seemed caught somewhere between a groan and a chuckle. He caught Shion’s lips in another hard kiss, fast and deep, before muttering, “God, you’ve been waiting for me to get you off all night, haven’t you?”

“No,” Shion repeated. His mind was still blissfully blank so it was easy to admit, “I’ve been waiting to fuck you all night.”

There was no mistaking Nezumi’s groan that time, and Shion found himself being dragged towards the staircase. Somewhere between their front door and their bedroom, buttons were undone and jackets were shed; when the backs of Shion’s knees hit the bed, he was only loosely wearing his shirt, mostly held up by the collar still trapped under his tie.

Nezumi moved in instantly, reaching up to undo the knot of Shion’s tie and pull his shirt away. “How do you want me?” he asked, voice low and husky.

As the tie came loose, Shion snatched it away. “Lie down on the bed. Take off your clothes first.” His eyes narrowed. “Everything except the tie.”

Nezumi’s pants were already hanging loosely off his hips; he faltered for a split second while pulling them off before recovering and quirking a smile at Shion. “Got it all planned out, huh?”

“I may have had a stroke of inspiration,” Shion murmured. He ran the crimson silk through his hands as he watched Nezumi undress. When there was no longer anything but pale expanses of skin and that thin white tie, Shion said, “Now lay down. On your back.”

Nezumi slid onto the bed and stretched out, still smiling at Shion. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you quite this domineering before,” he teased as Shion knelt onto the bed and crawled towards Nezumi. “I like it. If I’d known all it took to bring this out in you was a thin piece of fabric, I’d have put on a tie a long time ag— _hey!_ Careful with the merchandise!”

Shion had grasped Nezumi’s wrists and pulled them up over his head. Nezumi watched with something akin to awe as Shion threaded the crimson silk tie through their headboard and began to bind Nezumi’s wrists to it. The intent look on Shion’s face was fierce, dangerous…and absolutely intoxicating. Nezumi felt a thrill run down his spine.

Shion knotted the tie and ran his hands down Nezumi’s arms, bringing them to rest on Nezumi’s hips. “Can you move your arms?” he asked.

Nezumi didn’t even bother trying. “No.”

“Good.” And then before Nezumi could even register the movement, Shion had slid down the bed and taken Nezumi’s cock in his mouth, sucking so ruthlessly that Nezumi saw stars and then saw nothing at all.

“ _Fuck_ , Shion, not so—“ But Shion had already slowed to a leisurely pace, lips gliding down Nezumi’s length in careful, measured strokes.

After roughly 30 seconds, Nezumi was in agony and bursting to beg Shion to go faster, harder, please please please.

But he knew better now, knew why he was tied up and why Shion’s hands were on his hips. Nezumi was usually the one to set the pace, hands on Shion’s head to urge him on or pull him back, using little touches to move or tilt Shion exactly where he wanted him. He couldn’t touch this time though, and with Shion’s hands pinning him down to the bed, he knew he had no say here.

Shion kissed the tip of his cock and gave Nezumi a smile that said he knew Nezumi didn’t want him to stop, but he was going to anyway. His mouth returned to Nezumi, teeth grazing along his skin and tongue flicking into every hollow as he worked his way up Nezumi’s body. When his lips stroked against Nezumi’s, Nezumi groaned and kissed back harder, arching every part of his body up against Shion to feel him in as many places as he could.

Nezumi was so lost in Shion’s kisses that he gave a bit of a start when he felt Shion’s fingers between his thighs, the only warning before they slid inside him, cold and slick. “About fucking time,” he mumbled, and was rewarded with Shion biting down on his lip.

Before Nezumi could properly kiss him again the way he wanted to, Shion pulled away, his hands on Nezumi’s thighs to spread them apart as he knelt between them. Nezumi pulled his knees up towards his chest and stared at Shion with a challenge in his eyes and anticipation in his smile. But when Shion slowly started to move into him, Nezumi couldn’t say which was more likely to be his undoing: the feel of Shion filling him up, or the sight of Shion wrapping the thin white tie around his fingers, pulling the length of fabric taut.

Like a leash.

Shion gripped the tie and pulled it towards him, not hard enough to hurt but enough that Nezumi was forced to keep his head up and watch Shion fuck him. He was only too content to let his eyes linger on Shion’s groin, drinking in the sight of Shion’s cock gliding in and out of him. Nezumi bit his lip to keep from whimpering as he watched Shion thrust into him again and again.

“So beautiful,” Shion moaned, angling his hips to drive deeper into Nezumi. He couldn’t decide where to look; his eyes danced across Nezumi’s pale skin that glistened with sweat, watched Nezumi bite his lip and swallow hard, gazed at Nezumi’s exposed throat and the way the tie caressed his skin. But mostly, he stared at Nezumi’s hands, white-knuckled as they clutched at the crimson silk they were wrapped up in. “God, you’re gorgeous.”

Nezumi’s gaze snapped to his then, wild and intense. His eyes were glittering, and Shion found himself lost in the piercing silver. He reflexively tightened his grip on the fabric in his hand, desperate to keep Nezumi from looking away.

The tension on the tie pulled Nezumi’s head forward just a little more, gaze unwavering and, if anything, only intensifying as he licked his lips, gave Shion a shadow of a smirk, and began to move his hips to meet Shion’s thrusts. “More,” Nezumi said, and circled his hips.

Shion cried out at the sensation, but he forced himself to slow his pace, looking down at Nezumi with a warning in his eyes. _That’s not how this works. You take what I give you._

A flash of defiance sparked on Nezumi’s face, but he matched Shion’s speed, undulating his hips in perfect time to Shion’s thrusts. They stared one another down, Shion daring Nezumi to make another demand, Nezumi determined to not be baited. Nezumi waited until Shion had slowed to a speed where he was merely flexing his hips against him, and then, with a look in his heavily lidded eyes that made Shion’s blood boil, Nezumi opened his mouth and let out a wanton moan that traced a violent shiver down Shion’s spine.

“ _Dammit_ , Nezumi,” Shion hissed, and then he was fucking Nezumi again hard enough to slam the bed against the wall.

Nezumi didn’t even try to hold back the whimpers and moans that bubbled out of him now; the more he saw how they affected Shion, the more emphatic they became. And always, always, he kept his gaze locked on Shion’s.

Nezumi almost cried out in relief when he finally felt Shion’s fingers wrap around his cock. He’d been so, so close for too long now, and feeling Shion’s hand stroke him abruptly finished him off, his whole body arching up with the force of his orgasm. He’d just barely spent himself when he let out a strangled cry as Shion jerked on the tie, pulling him forward as far as he could go and crushing their lips together. Shion kissed him with fire and want, sweet enough to leave him dizzy and heated enough to make him ache. When Nezumi felt Shion spasm, he kissed him harder.

They both collapsed back down onto the bed together, Shion burying his face in the crook of Nezumi’s neck, body still trembling. His lips idly traced over Nezumi’s skin and one hand threaded through Nezumi’s hair. When Shion’s breathing had calmed, Nezumi cleared his throat until Shion raised his head enough to look at him. “Mind freeing your prisoner now?” he asked.

“Prisoner,” Shion scoffed.

“I served my sentence, Warden.”

Shion snorted, shaking his head as he pulled himself up enough to be able to reach the knot holding Nezumi’s wrists to the headboard. When the silk came undone, Shion dropped it over the side of the bed and flopped down next to Nezumi. They were silent for another minute before Shion blew out a breath and said, “Oh, that was bad.”

Nezumi quickly turned his face towards him and raised an eyebrow. “Bad?”

“Not _bad_ bad,” Shion said hastily. “Not that at all. But it was…dirty bad.”

Nezumi let out a delighted laugh. “Yes, who knew that some fancy dress clothes could turn my sweet little gentleman into a filthy degenerate with a penchant for bondage?”

Shion made a distressed sound and brought his hands up to cover his face. “Oh no,” he pitifully bemoaned. “Oh no, oh no, oh no.”

“No point being mortified about it now,” Nezumi said cheerfully, turning to wrap his arms around Shion. “What’s done is done. Quite thoroughly.”

He could see Shion’s face turning red behind his fingers. “Oh no,” Shion repeated.

“Hey, are you going to start getting turned on by your coworkers now?” Nezumi asked, poking Shion in the ribs. “Because I might have to insist you get a new job where no one wears a tie. Like a paper route. Or your mom’s bakery.”

“Shut up,” Shion grumped, peaking through his fingers to fix one glaring eye on Nezumi.

“I mean, I can excuse the whole sexual deviant thing,” Nezumi continued in an amused tone, “but only if you’re deviating with me.”

Shion slapped Nezumi’s thigh, which only made Nezumi laugh again and pull Shion closer to him. Shion grudgingly cracked a smile. “You have nothing to worry about,” he assured Nezumi. “None of them look half as pretty in dress clothes. And Kurama always wears ties with dinosaurs or clowns on them.”

“Oh, so I guess this means you don’t want to use my Godzilla tie next time,” Nezumi said, feigning disappointment.

Shion squirmed away from Nezumi as he grumbled under his breath. Nezumi thought he caught the words “ridiculous” and “not happening,” but Shion was already off the bed and walking away, quickly slipping into the bathroom and closing the door firmly behind him. Nezumi heard the water in the shower turn on and sighed as he rolled onto his back.

Nezumi stretched out his arms; when he felt something silky brush his fingertips, he grabbed it and brought it into view. The crimson tie was thoroughly wrinkled after having been crushed between his fingers. It really was a beautiful color, though.

On a whim, Nezumi looped the fabric around his neck. He carefully laid the crimson silk against the brilliant white that still rested on his chest before settling back down, hands behind his head and a satisfied smirk on his face.

* * *

The next day, Nezumi went out and bought five more silk ties in brilliant jewel tones.

Shion looked at Nezumi with a sullen expression while he cheekily displayed his purchases, making a show of flaunting the colors against his skin and holding up each tie to Shion’s throat. After making a tart comment about the novelty having worn off, Shion stomped out of the house, claiming he’d promised to visit Inukashi.

Later that night, after a stunning display by Nezumi on newly innovative ways to utilize light bondage in the bedroom, Shion took back every word.


End file.
